If You Die Before You Wake
by America Liberty
Summary: I hate my sister and odds are she hates me too, ever since I ran away at twenty one for New York. It's been fifteen years and New York's not working out so well, so when my sister calls and asks me to come back I jump on it, only one problem. She's missing the next day and these stupid agents are telling me I can't help them find her, but I'm getting my sister back or die trying.
1. Black and Blue

Ok, my first writting piece to do with the movie, but I love the movie, so be honest but nice. I have a rough skin though so I can take it:)

I ran away when I was twenty-one and I'm not going to lie, I regretted it. West Virginia was a home to me and I up and ditched it and why? Because of a boy.

Don't call me naive just yet, because I know you all are thinking, but I loved him more then the world, I really did.

He took me to New York and we started a life there. It was perfect. He started working shifts at the local convince store and then as a bartender and I...well...I took up in the entertainment field.

I made so much money, every night that we were able to pay off rent on the small condo. I wrote to my father and sister that day, telling them about my house and new life, but I made sure to say I was an aspiring Broadway dancer.

It was kind of the truth.

All went well until he came home drunk. I asked him what happened and he told me that he went astray, if you know what I mean. I got angry and started to yell. We got into a might and to put everything to a tee. I still have the bruises.

I come home every night to a nightmare. Ivan quit his jobs last night and now I can only rely on the pay that I make, but as the bruises have started to go up, my pay has started to go down.

Tonight, I walk into the bar full well knowing that I'm only getting half my days earnings.

"Shit, Brandy, what happened to your face?" Jade asked me as we walked the back allay to The Scene.

"What do ya think happened to it, ho?" I snapped back and I sped up my pace, pulling the black leather jacket tighter around my body.

"I think someone smacked that pretty little face of yours, Brandy." I herd a voice say. I turned around to face my manager.

"God damn it, Charlie! What do you want now?" I hissed and he motioned Jade inside. She quickly left. No one mouth off to Charlie. How could make sure that you never got a job in the entire state of New York again.

Except me.

I mouth off to anyone I wanted to.

"I want you to get your ass home, Brandy. I'm sick of yo attitude and I'm sick of you coming in here like that." He said. I closed my eyes. The accent that I worked so hard to get rid of was creeping back.

"Please, Charlie. I got nothing else and you know I'm a great dancer. I just need some time to get everything at home sorted out. Please, if you-"

"Get you're ass out of my club!" He screamed. Charlie was impossible to talk to when he was drunk like this. I took my heels off and started to run. Lord only knows what he would do to me. I walked up the stairs, barefoot to the cheap apartment that I owned, almost in a trance.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I snapped, when I realized that I had dropped my keys on the way home. "You better not be to fucking drunk to open up the god damn door." I snapped.

True love, huh?

"Who the hell is it?" I herd a voice mutter from the inside.

"It's Brandy! Open up the god damn door!" I screamed and then I herd stumbling and the door opens. I could not believe that I have been living with this for fifteen years.

It's the same thing every night.

"What the hell are you doing back so early?" Ivan asks.

"I got fired." I said. His eyes bulge and I forget that he's drunk for a minute.

"You got what?"

"Fired. Charlie didn't like the bruises on my face." I almost teased. That got me a slap and a kick to the ground.

I can feel my stomach being kicked and I can feel myself slip into a pitch-black pit, but I'm unwilling to leave just yet. I hold on for a few more minutes and then it all fades into dark.

When I wake up I'm lying on the ground, wondering how bad I look? I have my answer when I look in the mirror. Oh shit. It's worse then ever. My red hair is matted and my eyes have dark circles around them. I can feel the forming of bruises all over my pale skin, but right now just my visible arms and legs are splotched with the dark shapes. I wanted to cry. I wanted to collapse to the ground and just cry, but no.

Brandy Starling never cried in her life and she never will.

Ok, that was a lie, but I won't cry anymore. Suddenly, my phone starts to ring. I walk over to the line and pick it up.

"What?" I snap.

"It's Jade. I just wanted to know what happened. You never showed up for shift and me and Kelly had to do the whole night."

"Sorry, but I got fired."

"You what? But you're the best dancer, hands down! You get more tips then Ally and you've been here shorter. Maybe-" I hang the phone up, not wanting to listen to Jade right now. The phone rings again. I snap it up.

"Jade, I swear to god I'll kill you!" I scream and there is silence.

"Liana?" I hear a voice ask. The fact that they used my real name and not my stage name snaps me back to reality.

"Who is it?" I ask.

"You're sister, Liana. Are you alright?" I hear her voice say.

"Yah, I'm fine. What do you want?" I ask. Yes, I know it's rude, but look at it from my point of view. She and I never get along. She's the biggest damn goody two shoe that I know. Then she decided to go follow in daddy's footsteps and I run away and she never bothers to call or write or anything. It's like I disappear off the face of the god damn world. The only reason I know that she's some hotshot FBI agent is because of the goddamn news.

"Are you ok, Liana? You don't seem ok."

"I'm fine. What do you want? Money? Because I don't have any." I snap at her, hoping she'll hang up the phone and go back to being some cheap small town overpaid cop.

"I want you to come up, Liana. I just got a case with the FBI that I think I need some help with. You might be just who I need."

"You're with the FBI?" I pretend not to know.

"Yes, I'm with the FBI. Will you come up already?" She asks, desperately. I bite my lip.

"Why do you need my help? You do know what I do for a living, don't you?" I ask her and she sighs.

"Yes, Lenina, I do, but you know, I need you for this one. Please. I never ever ask anything of you. Ever. Please, Lenina. I need this. You see, I can't explain it all, but a year ago, I had a mishap with the FBI and now I'm on a tight watch and I need this case solved well. If you loved me a little, Lenina. You would head up to Virginia now."

"I can't. I don't have a car. Goodbye, Clarice."

"Wait! I'll come and get you Thursday. Please." She says. I looked around my house. I see Ivan passed out on the couch and touch my face.

"Ok. Come pick me up, but I need somewhere to stay when I'm up." I say and she laughs. I can tell that she's relived and I start to wonder about this case and why my hotshot FBI agent sister needs the help of some cheap street whore from New York.

"You can stay with me, Liana. We can get caught up."

"Whatever." I mutter and hang the phone up, walking in to my room and start throwing random things into a bag.

If I'm luck I'll never have to come back to New York again. I mean, paint me intrigued and if it turns out lame, then hey, I get away from that bastard. I think and look over at Ivan, unbelieving that I ever thought I loved him.

Did I even know what love was? Did I love my sister? Have I ever? Did I love my father?

"No, no, and no.

I'm alone in this world and you know what? That's fine with me.


	2. Probation

The most I've ever made in a night was three thousand dollars and that was at the club, dancing, and streetwalking. The least I have ever made a night was four hundred, just at the club and trust me when I say that just dancing for tips, that's pretty damn good.

Yesterday night I was beat up so bad I only made one hundred streetwalking, now generally, streetwalking gives off more cash and I made pretty much none.

This is why we're going to need to sell the house if Ivan doesn't pick up a damn job and stop using me as a punching bag.

Believe me, I'd be more then happy to relive his stress in other ways.

Part of the reason I made no money is because no one wants a drunken girl and, believe me, that night I drank too much. Three bottles of beer and about half a glass of wine prompted a hangover for the day my sister was supposed to come. I woke up to a sharp stabbing pain in my body. I could not yet identify where. The phone starts to ring and I knew that I slept the entire night on the floor, probably passed out drunk.

"Yah?" I say into the receiver.

"Liana? I'm at the building. What apartment are you?" My sister asks. I look around, coming to my senses a bit.

"Who is it, Brandy?" Ivan yells from the kitchen. I ignore him.

"I'm coming down now. Please just don't leave your car." I beg her.

"Liana-" She starts but I cut her off.

"Don't leave the god damn car, Clarice or I swear to god-"

"Who the fuck is it, you god damn whore?" Ivan screams and come stumbling in. I turn to face him.

"My sister. Ivan, I need to go help her with something. I'll be back soon." I say and I feel a hand come down on my face. The phone crashes to the ground and I lose my balance.

"You're not going anywhere! I need you to work!" He screams and I get a kick to my stomach.

"Liana?" Clarice's voice is desperate now. She wouldn't care if she didn't want something from me. I stood up and looked Ivan in the eyes.

"I got fired last night, you son of a bitch! Now maybe if you got your head out of the bottle for-" He shoves me and I fall into the table, knocking it over. He's going to kill me. I think. I know it. In one last futile attempt I grab the phone and start to talk rapidly. "I'm on the fourth floor, apartment twenty four C." I say. It surprises me, but she is still there.

"I'm coming up." She says and in a few minutes I hear a knock on our door. "FBI! Open up!" I hear her voice say.

"We don't need no damn police help!" Ivan screams and I try to stand to open the door for my sister, but a hand come slamming into my chest and I fall over, crying out in pain.

But no tears. Still no tears.

"That wasn't a choice, sir! Open the door! I'm with the FBI!" Clarice yells.

"Get the fuck offa my property!" He screams and Clarice kicks the door down. I start to wonder if she changed since I last saw her. My eyes are a bit to swollen to look right now, but I can hear her gasp a little.

"Step away from her. I'm giving you a chance before I call the NYPD to come and arrest you." She warns. He listens to her. Ivan knows what a criminal record gets you. He knows what jail is like. I feel arms coming around my waist and it snaps me back to reality and what's going on.

I do not need her help. I was here to help her. Not the other way around. I push her hands away.

"I got it." I snap and stumble back to my room to grab my bag. She's standing in the doorway looking at me with those worried eyes. "Clarice, I'm fine." I say and almost as if to just prove my older sister right, I collapsed to the ground and started to cough. She's at my side in a heartbeat and that makes me hate her more because I know that I would never have been that quick to bust in and help her.

Hell, I probably would have just let her get her ass beat in, to be honest.

"Liana, maybe we should get you to a doctor." She says and looks at the ground, where I had coughed up blood.

"Clarice, I'm fucking fine. If you don't believe me you can just-" She cut me off, by taking my bag and starting out the door.

"If you don't want a doctor then we need to get to Virginia. It's a three hour drive." She says. "Crawford is expecting us."

"Why the rush?" I ask. "Want me to give you a tour of the neighborhood?" I ask. She gets stiffer.

"I've seen enough." She says and we walk down to the car in silence. I sit down in the shotgun seat and rest my head against the seat, breathing deeply and secretly thanking the dear lord that I'm safe with my sister. She gets in the car and sticks her keys in the engine. It's kind of silent until we hit a gas station. She gets out to fill the car up.

"You love the car more then me." I joked. She looked at me and sighs.

"Do you even know how difficult you are, Liana?" She asks genuinely. I sigh and lie back. She looks guilty now. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out and all." She says. "Do you know what it's like to lose one of the only things in life you care about?" She asks.

"Me?" I say, shocked. She leans back.

"My job at the FBI." She says. I suddenly feel a pang of envy and sympathy for my sister. Dancing was the only thing that I had left and I can still remember Charlie telling me to leave and never come back.

"I know how you feel." I say to her and she finishes pumping the gas. "I'll pay." I offer and take out the two hundred I made last night. She shakes her head. "No really. It's no problem. I usually make at least four thousand a night." I lie. That was such a lie I don't even know if she believed it.

"It's fine, Liana." She says and touches my cheek. "Does it hurt?" She asks me. I shake my head.

"Just go, pay, come back, and tell me why you need a dancer." I say and she walks inside to pay. Sometimes I'm so good at lying that I surprise myself. Clarisse comes back with a bottle of Advil, some ice, and two coffees. "Just because you're older does not mean you're in charge." I snap at her.

"Liana, listen to me. I need your help right now and if you fight with me then we're never going to solve the case." I perked up.

"I'm helping you solve a case?" She looked around.

"In a way, but it's not going to be easy and I need you to listen to whatever I say and do it. I know you have a problem with that, but do you think you can?"

"Depends on what it is." I say to her and she starts to car up.

"Well, I got my titles suspend for a mishap with-"

"Yah, I herd on the news Lecter and all." I say. She nods and takes a sip of her coffee.

"Well a month later Lecter tried to make contact with me and I turned him in. Right now he's locked up in a cell again. I got my badge back and I'm on a sort of probation and all."

"Haven't lost me so far." I say.

"Turning him in was hard." She says quieter. I give her a strange look.

"Why? He's a mass murderer on the to ten list." I say to her and pop another two of the Advil.

"Don't take so many of those." She says and takes the bottle out of my hand. I sigh and decide not to fight her. She looks really stressed.

"Liana, why don't you just leave Ivan when he started to hurt you?" She asks me and stops the car. It was a good question and one that I didn't know the answer to. It was good enough to shut me up.

"So you and he were in like a abusive relationship." I state and she shrugs.

"Not really, but I don't want to talk about it." She says. I nod and close my eyes.

When I wake Clarice is glancing at the time and swearing under her breath. The four Advil have helped my headache and I wake up feeling a lot better.

"What's wrong?" I ask and she looks over.

"We're going to be late." She says and I look out the window. I turn around. There is a cop behind us. I turn to Clarisse.

"Then speed up." I say and she looks at me like I'm crazy.

"There is a cop right behind us." She says. I nod.

"Let me worry about the cop. Worst comes to worst we can flash him, right?" I wink. She looks and me. I can't read her expression, but to be on the safe side I decide to add; "Your badge I meant." I say and she just looks back at the rode and speeds up.

"So what is this case about and why do you need me?" I ask. She ignores me. "Clarice? Come on, I'm sorry I pissed you off, but I have the right to know." I say and she sighs.

"I can't tell you here. These cases are big and I need to let my supervising agent tell you." She says and I can hear her mocking whoever this agent dude is and I know how she feels.

None of us dealt well with authority, if nothing else, my sister and I had that in common.

"I bet he's a real dipshit." I say and smile. She cracks a smile back and pulls into the parking lot of the big building. I tugged on my white tank top and short black skirt down. I looked in the mirror.

It was clear who got the looks in the family. Me, no contest. I smoothed out my auburn hair and looked at my sister with my green eyes. Guys were always and have always fallen over for me. It was clear who had the looks, but the minute I opened my mouth it was clear who possessed the brains and it was not me. We walk up together.

"Trust me, Liana. You'll be great." She says to me and smiles. It was also clear who had the people skills and that wasn't be either.

I smile back and Clarice opens up the door and we walk into the building together. She takes an elevator up to the fifth floor and my heart is beating. For some strange reason I feel scared and alone.

Big, successful, hotshot Clarice Starling. Always dad's favorite. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. We enter a conference room with a bunch of pictures pinned to the wall.

"Starling, you're late." I hear a voice say. I turn around.

"I'm sorry, Special Agent Stanford. I was-" This Stanford guy cut my sister off.

"If you ever want your license back you'll start to behave in a appropriate manner and respect me and this agency."

"Bullshit!" I coughed. Everyone looked over in my direction.

"And you're the savior that's going to help us solve our case? Starling, is this a joke? She's a prostitute!" He says and gestures at my exposed chest.

"I am not a prostitute! I never would sell my body like that! I am exotic dancer. There is s difference!" I snap. I have started to hate this guy.

"Wait here." Another man says. "I see what she's doing. Hear Clarice out for a second." I look over. The man smiles at me and walks over, putting an arm of my sister's shoulder.

Again, I would kill to be my sister.

"Clarice, care to explain what's going on?" I hear a man say from the corner.

"Yes, sir." Clarice says and sits me down in a chair. "This is my sister, Liana. She's an aspiring actress who lives in New York. I think she could be very much a help to us."

"I'm dying to hear how the prostitute is going to find our murderer and make our witness talk." The man, Stanford, says and lights a smoke up.

"Lay off of her." The other man says.

"Or what, Jackson Freedman?" Stanford says. "This isn't even your case. You just have the hots for Clarice."

"Oh, shut your freaking trap already!" I hiss at Stanford. "It is so clear that you have the hots for her too. You're just making it harder for her to-" Crawford cuts me off. Clarice has her head in her hand. Freedman looks slightly amused.

"Clarice, please tell us how your sister is going to help." Crawford says.

"My sister might be able to get our witness to talk, sir." Clarice says. "The witness is a teenage girl. She won't talk to a police officer, a therapist, or the FBI, but she might talk to a-"

"A what? Stripper?" I cut in. Freedman coughs to hide a laugh.

"No, she might talk to a model, which my sister is of a sort." Clarice says.

"I say it's worth a shot." Freedman says and then he looks down at me and puts an arm on my shoulder. "And you know what, sweetheart? Even if you're not a real model, you can pass as one, trust me." He whispers in my ear. I get the chills.

"Please leave, Special Agent Freedman." Stanford says and Freedman winks at me and then walks out. I have never felt so hot when it was cold out.

"That's not the half of the uses she could be, though." Clarice goes on. "If our theory is right, then lust is the next circle then-"

"No!" Stanford says. "I will not have some whore walking around and trumping on our case!" He snaps.

"I believe Clarice to be right." Crawford says. "If the killer is modeling his crimes after the nine circles of hell then what's the second one? Lust and who could portray lust better then a dancer?" Crawford says.

"Ok, wait a second." I say and look up at Clarice. "What the hell is going on here?" I ask.

"Your sister is being a idiot." Stanford says.

"With all due respect, Mr. Stanford, unless you have a better idea, this is our best bet." Clarice says. "And knowing you, you probably don't have a better idea." She mutters loud enough for me to hear. I laugh a little.

"It's our best bet, Jason." Crawford says to the idiot.

"Can someone tell me what I signed up for?" I ask and Clarice turns to me.

"Are you familiar with Dante's Inferno?" She asks. I'm tempted to nod, but I don't.

"Not really."

"Well, it's about a man who takes a trip for redemption down to hell. He goes through the nine circles of hell and tries to get into heaven. The first circle is limbo. It's where the one's who don't except Christ go. You know, the un-baptized and the pagans ad all." She says.

"What does this have to do with anything and what do you need me to do?" I ask my sister.

"Well, talk to the girl, for one and then it's kind of a long shot but I want you to walk around the streets in your, well, clothing and we'll see what we can find." She says. At first I was confused why she needs a prostitute walking around to catch her killer and how this was going to help.

"Seven days ago seven people were killed by means of poison. The word limbo was craved into the arms with one circle. The people of limbo resided in the first circle and they were not punished. They were made to just lie there, stone cold, much like the effects of poison. Do you know what the second circle is?" She asks me. I might be a bit of an airhead, but I'm not stupid and it all clicks into place and I start to realize what she needs me to do and why.

"Is the second circle lust?" I ask with a smirk. Clarice nods.

"And if I were a killer looking for someone for lust guess who I would pick?" Stanford asked me. I turn around.

"A stripper." I say simply. Clarice nods.

"Are you in?" She asks me. "Will you help?" I nod. I don't know if I did it to help my sister, annoy Stanford, or maybe impress Freedman either or, this job was made for me and I was going to get my sister's license back.

"When do I start?" I ask.

"Tomorrow."


	3. As Planned

Disclaimer: I don't own the movie or books:)

And guys, please review, I have so many views so I know that you're reading. It's my first story for this catagory and I need to know how I'm doing. Thanks to allofmysecretfantasies for reviewing! This chapter is for you!

"Liana?" I herd a voice call. My eyes slowly open. It has been a long time since I really slept.

"Hm?" I ask turning over to see my sister dressed and ready in a skirt and jacket.

"Liana, it's time to go. You need to get ready. Freedman is going to pick us up in a hour." She snaps at me and I stand up. I didn't really know what to pack so I had just thrown random things in a bag and none of those random things included pajamas, so I went to bed in my short black dress.

"Ok, so what do you want me in?" I ask. She smirks.

"Whatever is going to get the killer out." She says and I walk into the bathroom with my bag, glancing at the clock. It was already noon. I sighed and turned the water on, but just as I did I hear my sister gasp. I quickly turn it off and walk back out to where she's sitting, chalk white and pale.

"Clarice?" I ask and she looked up from the stack of mail she's holding. I walk over and take it from her.

**Agent Starling, we regret to inform you that Mr. Jack Crawford has passed away last night of heart failure. A funeral will be held in a week's time. Further notice will be sent to you sooner to the date.**

** The Federal Bureau of Investigation**

"I-I'm sorry, Clarice." I say. Sure I lost dad when I was seven, but I've never really lost anyone other then that and I was so little. She turns to me, her eyes now filled with fiery determination.

"I'm going to get my job back for him. He worked so hard and he was such a good agent. He helped me and now I'm going to get it back for him." I smile.

"There's the attitude!" I say and walk back into the bathroom, mulling over what just happened. Nothing would really change fir me, but a lot would for Clarice. First thing, that jackass Stanford now had complete authority over her, as Freedman wasn't on the case. I start the water up again and take my clothing off, letting it fall to the ground.

The water feels refreshing and water from here feels different then crappy New York apartment water. I spent half an hour washing my hair with color enhancing shampoo and I shaved and scrubbed my body cleaner then I had been in months.

If I was going to do a job, I was going to do it well and right and besides. I didn't exactly make the best impression on Freedman yesterday, but then again, should that really be my top priority? I wrap a towel around myself and get out of the shower.

"Liana! Hurry up!" My sister snaps. Sighing, I and decide not be mean to her because of her hard morning. She knocks on the bathroom door. "Are you almost ready?"

"Yes! Just let me get ready! How do you want me dressed?" I ask.

"So people know you're a hooker, Liana. We need him to be able to spot you on the street at night." She says. "But first we're going to the hospital, so wear a jacket." She says. I open up my bag. I was going to need something bright and flashy.

"Why do I need a jacket for the hospital?"

"Because I don't want that poor little girl seeing you dressed like this." She says and leaves the door to finish getting ready herself. I finally decide on a short blue dress with a string of (fake) diamonds going up and leading to a low cut hem. I walk out.

"What do you think, Clarice?" I ask. She looks over.

"I think it's perfect for our purposes." She says and I smile at her, going to back to do my hair and makeup.

All I did with my hair was tease it a bit with some hairspray but the makeup was a different story. Part of me wanted to do heavy makeup like I would for a night of private parties, but another part of me wanted to keep it light so Freedman didn't think I was a total slut.

"Clarice?" I call. She comes in the bathroom. "What do you know about Jackson Freedman?" I ask and pick up a tube of mascara, applying it heavy to my eyelashes.

"I know he's married with three kids." She says without blinking an eye and a drop the mascara. She smirks a bit and picks it up for me. "I was just kidding you, Liana." She says and I smile with relief and pick up some red lipstick and apply that evenly to my lips. Then I take my leather jacket and turn to my sister.

"Do you even know how much I hate you?" I half joke. She nods.

"Painfully so."

"How do I look?" I ask and she shudders.

"Like I failed you." She says. I raise an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"If we had stuck together then you would never have had to do this." She says. I cough.

"Clarice, you can call me whatever you want, as can the world, but I love to dance. It's my life." I say and she sighs and she opened up the car door for me and I slip on my five-inch heels. We drive over to the office and Clarice gets out. I notice she that changed to all black.

"You know I really am sorry for your loss." I say.

"Just do your job, Liana. That's the best you can do for me right now." She says. I cough and we walk up the stairs into the room again. I walk in and Stanford laughs a cruel laugh.

"We lose this case, Starling, and it's on you and the prostitute." He snaps.

"No, you imperious jackass, we lose this case it's on you. You're are superior agent after all." I say with a smirk. My sister smiles at me.

"Let's just get to work." She says. "I'll give you the profile so you know what to look out for Liana, but right now we're going to see the girl. She was a witness to the murder of her sister, who had a seizure in reaction to the poison. She's in the psyche ward of the hospital. You just need to go in there tell her you're a model and then talk and see what you can get out of her." Clarice says.

"Ok, but you and Stamford can drive over together. Give me the keys and I'll go over by myself." I say and Clarice passes me the keys. We all walk down to the cars and she and Stanford and Freedman walk over to a unmarked FBI car and I take Clarice's over to the hospital.

"What do you need me to ask her?" I say.

"Just whatever you can get. I have no idea what she's seen." My sister says and Freedman touches my shoulder gently.

"You'll do great, Liana." He says in my ear and I smile and check in and they show me to a room. A teenage girl is sitting on a bed, looking distantly up at the ceiling. I sit down next to her and flash her my pearly white teeth. She looks over.

"I'm Brandy." I say, using my stage name. "Ok, so I have a audition after this so I don't have a lot of time." I start. The girl looks over.

"Audition?"

"I am going to be the face of SkinnyGirlz Drink Mixes." I say smiling again.

"You're a model?" She asks.

"Of a sort. Now listen, my sister is with the FBI and she made me come here. She's the most annoying person in the whole entire world. It's the first time I've seen her in a long time. Do you have a sister?" I ask. I'm kind of feeling around blind because I was not briefed and I have no idea what to do.

"Yah." Silence.

"Is she annoying like mine?"

"She's dead."

"I'm sorry for your loss." I say and take the girls hand. "But you know what would make the hole in your heart a little smaller?" I say. "Revenge against the dickweed who did that to her." I say. The girl looks at me.

"I'll face my fears and tell you what you need to know, but it's not for my sister or because you come in here and tell me you're a model. It's for you and your sister." The girl says to me and takes a deep breath.

"I walked home that night from a friend's house and a was a little tipsy. You can't tell anyone that though. It's against my religion and-" I cut her off and the gears in my head start to whir. I connect the dots and remember the details they told me about the crime.

"What religion are you?" I ask. She looks at me strangely.

"I'm a athiest." She says and I close my eyes. This was the real deal. I was involved in a real crime. I quickly recounted all of the crime shows I've seen. If this guy was killing based on a Christian portrayal of hell then he was Christian and thought that he was better then everyone else.

So not cool.

"Keep going, sorry." I say and she nods at me.

"I came home and I saw a man slipping something into a glass of water." She is starting to cry.

"Was the door broken?" I ask.

"No, and I could hear my sister laughing. I hung back a little because we're not allowed to have people over when my parents are gone and I see him walk into the kitchen and slip something into a drink. Then he told her he had to go and walked out. I come in and ask her how long he was there and she says only a few hours and not to tell. She says he was a friend from school and I believed her. I mean he was handsome and looked her age."

"How old is your sister?"

"College age. She's about twenty three." The girl says through tears.

"And did you recognize the man?"

"I'm only fourteen."

"Can you tell me what he looked like?"

"Black hair and dark green eyes. He had kind of olive skin and he was wearing all black."

"Did he look your sisters age?" I ask and try franticly to write it all down on the note card that I've been given. She nods. Then I gasp. I hit the jackpot. "What was your sister studying in college?" I ask. She creased her face over.

"English literature."

"What was she reading?"

"Dante's Inferno." She says and I smile wide and bright.

"Thank you." I say. "You just helped save a life." I thanked her and she smiled at me a weak smile. "Where did she go to college?" I ask.

"Faber's University, the one downtown." She says and I hug her. She smiles a weak smile at me.

"Fix things with your sister before it's to late."

"I will."

"And good luck at your audition. Are you really a model?" She asked.

"No, I'm a stripper." I say and the girl smiles and laughs. She's fourteen. That's old enough to know. I nod at the girl, thank her, and then I take off my heels and start at a run for the car. Clarice is standing there nervous and I hug her.

"Did you do it? Did it work?" She asks. I nod and smile. "Tell me, what happened!"

"Well she told me that her sister knew the guy from college. I got a description and get this." I say, passing the notebook to my sister. "The girl that was dead was in college studying English. I got the name of the college and get this, they were reading Dante's Inferno in class." I say. Clarice smiles.

"Thank You, Liana." She says and I wink at Freedman. "I'll need you to walk around the college after classes today. If that's where he's getting his victims then that's where we're going." She proclaims and I get back in the car and we drive over to the headquarters. Stanford gets out of the car and opens the door for my sister. I park and get out. Together again we walk over to the room.

"You were such a help, Liana." Freedman says to me in the elevator. I smile and wink.

"I'm good at that kind of stuff. Say, want to know what else I'm good at?" I say flirtatiously. Clarisse looks over at me.

"Special Agent Freedman, I love your ring. Where did you get it?" She says and smiles back at me. It's a little less awkward then I thought it would be. She hasn't changed a bit and I'm glad to see that the death of her boss won't be spiraling her into a pit of trauma and depression.

"Thanks, Starling. It's my class ring." He says and I visibly breathe a sigh of relief. "That was good work today, Liana." He says and pats me on the back.

"Aw, all I get is a pat on the back?" I tease. He smiles.

"What else do you want, Liana?" He says and Stanford rolls his eyes.

"Stop trying to get the prostitute and get back to whatever case you're supposed to be on." Stanford snaps.

"Ever since, Mr. Crawford's untimely passing, I've been assigned to this case." He says.

"Oh, goody! We're going to be working hand in hand!" I say.

"Maybe closer." He adds under his breath.

"Hopefully so, I just did sensational work today." I say and puff my already large chest up.

"I already asked you, Liana. What is it you want from us? Praise?" Freedman jokes. We all get off the elevator and Stanford walks faster.

"How about dinner and a movie tonight?" I ask.

"How about you just come over my place? We can skip the chase." He whispers in my ear and I turn around grinning ear to ear.

"Sensational. I'll see you there at five and we can head over to the college together at seven. That's when the first classes start."

"So, I assume you'll both be there?" Clarice says and looks over at me.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I respond never once taking my eyes off of Freedman.

He was much more then Ivan was ever. He made my heart beat faster and he wasn't going to beat the crap out of me.

"Ok, thanks for your help, Liana. I'll see you later." Clarice says and looks at my clearly smitten face.

"As will I." Freedman smirks.

"How did I get stuck on a case with a fugitive, a knob head, and a whore?" Stanford asks in wonder.

"If I'm the whore, Clarice is the fugitive, and Freedman is the knob head, does that make you the man who can't keep his attention in one place?" I ask pick his hand up, touching his clear wedding ring and cross my hands over the chest he's been staring at all day.

"If you don't want people looking, don't show them, you slut." He snaps.

"And to think that my sister is the bad one here. Looks like we have the wrong person on probation." I say and look around.

"Thank you for your help, again, Liana. You can leave now." she says and almost forces me out the door. I smirk and get back in the car. I could not have been more excited for tonight. Finally, a man who likes me for me and not me for my looks.

I would have made daddy proud. Not like I cared what he thought before my sister called me, but still.

That wasn't the only thought that crossed my mind though. I was scared for this stakeout. I mean odds were in our favor right? I'd walk around flirt with the murderer and then the FBI would bust in and cuff him up, right?

I could only hope luck would be on my side, but then again, when was it ever?


	4. How Many More People?

"To mystery and to success!" Jackson Freedman exclaims and passes me a bubbly glass of Champaign. I smile brightly at him and he sits down. His golden blond hair falls messily across his tan face and his blue eyes sparkle. He doesn't remind me of any of the dirty and married customers that come and see me.

"To cases and new flames!" I say and we clink glasses. I take a sip.

"You look fantastic, Liana." He murmurs and I look down. I had redone my makeup but it was the same dress and shoes. I did put on dangle earrings and a necklace though.

"Thank you, Mr. Freedman." I say and smile again.

"Please, call me, Jackson. I'm calling you Liana, aren't I?" He asks and pours me another glass. I nod.

"How true, how true." I proclaim and sit back in the chair. He takes my hand and helps me up. We walk over to the table and he sits down.

"Are you hungry?" He asks. I shake my head.

"Not really, but thank you for the offer." I say and he smiles at me. This is real. I think. I really like this guy. We sit down and talk at the table. I laugh and talk like a real person. He does too. After a little bit of that he walks back over to the couch. I sit down next to him. He starts to kiss me.

Ok, fine. First date kissing, whatever. I can do worse. Its just first base.

He starts to pull at my dress.

Third base.

And then, well, let's say he scored a home run.

I get up and tug my dress back on at six thirty. It's fine. He's different he and I are going to end up loving each other. We need to get to the college. He's cool as a cucumber. I'm blushing red as it get's but I like Freedman, so I guess it's ok. He stops the car in front of the college and we both get out.

"That was fun, we should do it again sometime." I say and give him my best wink. He nods and smiles.

"Worth my money!" He exclaims. I laugh and Freedman snaps. "Oh, Jesus, Liana. I almost forgot." He says and opens up his wallet. "How many hours was that? Do you charge by hour?" I look around and my face creases over.

"What do you mean?"

"How much do I owe you for tonight?" He asks. I bit my lip. What is he talking about? "Liana? Do you charge by the hour?" He asks.

"What are you talking about, Jackson?" I ask. He sighs.

"For you know...everything, Liana. How much do I owe you? I mean, you didn't dance, but I imagine that you charge for talking and time to." My mouth drops open. I can't stop a few tears from coming out. The one man I think I might really like and all he wants is a one-night stand? Is that all it was? A paid job? Did he really just want a hooker? I thought that there was something more. I was certainly not the brain of the operation.

"I'm not a prostitute, Jackson. I'm an exotic dancer. I don't do anything worse then third base." I hiss, trying to control the tears.

"Oh...So what you did was... Jesus, Liana...I had no idea. Ok, I'm not ready to tie down, so how's this sound. I'll give you double. I mean don't tell me you're a virgin? Not like we committed a crime." He laughs and I close my eyes and shake my head. He takes to four hundred dollars and slips it into my cleavage. "There. That covers everything?" I nod, but that was a lie. It didn't cover the hours of therapy I was going to need. It didn't cover taking my hope for a real relationship and smashing it. Clarice walks over with Stanford.

"Hey, Liana. Hello, Freedman. How was your night?'

"Sensational. Your sister, well, I can see why she's a hit." He says and winks at Clarice. I turn around.

"Can we just get this over with?" I say and she slits her eyes.

"Liana? Are you alright?" She asks.

"What do you need me to do?" I ask.

"Put this in your ear and walk around. When you think you find the guy then start chatting him up and get him into your car or a tight spot. When you do that say something along the lines of 'ready when you are' and start to, well, you know, do your job and-"

"I am not a prostitute!" I snap. "I'm not having-"

"No one says you have to, Liana. Just do what we say for now and whatever happens, LEAVE THIS ON." Clarice says and I nod.

"Ok, Liana, go ahead. We have you wired." She said and I took a deep breath and flicked on my MP3 player. It always calmed me down. I start to walk away and as I'm on my way out I give Freedman the finger. Clarice looks around. I walk down the street a couple of times.

"There's no one here, Clarice. I'm heading into the building. Classes have started. Maybe I can catch him." I say.

"Hm? Ok, Liana. You do that." She says. I cough and start into the college. Classes are in break. I walk in and look around.

"Hello? Can I help you, Miss?" I hear a voice ask and I turn around.

"Tell him you're with the FBI." Stanford says.

"No! Don't say that. This is not only a classified mission, but if you say that he'll act different and our killer might catch on."

"I'm looking for a man. He caught me on the streets the other day and he told me that he ran a dance center. I'm a dancer." I say and the man bites his lip.

"Do you know what he looks like?"

"Walk away, Liana!" Stanford says.

"Stay, Liana. Listen to me." Clarice says. I squirm.

"Just do what you're doing." Freedman soothes.

"He has dark green eyes and kind of olive skin. Black hair. Do you know whom I'm talking about? He said something about being a English student, reading Dante's Inferno." I say. The man nods.

"You don't mean David, do you? David Portinari? He's a student here. He's also studying psychology. He went to some jail to interview a killer. Literally, just left. Do you know who he is going to talk to?" The man asks.

"Who?" I ask.

"Hannibal the Cannibal. Hannibal Lecter actually agreed to talk to him. He said something about the project. I don't know." The man says. "I'm a professor of psychology so..." The man keeps going on and on, but my mind is still glued to that.

Hannibal Lecter? My sister's favorite killer? This just keeps getting better and better. My sister's voice snaps me back to reality.

"He's going to see who?"

"Hannibal Lecter." I repeat for her benefit. She gives or a little gasp or groan. I don't know which.

"Yes, Hannibal Lecter the-" I cut the man off by starting away from him. "Hey! I'm talking to you! Are you just going to-" I run back to the car.

"Ok, so we need to get to Baltimore Psychiatric Hospital." Stanford says. "As head agent, I'll go. Clarice, take your sister back home and get a search on David Portinari."

"No!" My sister exclaims. "Are you trying to get more people killed? Do you really think Dr. Lecter is going to talk to a male FBI agent?" She snaps.

"You think he's going to talk to the women who turned him in?" Stanford shoots back.

"Yes, I do think he'll talk to me." Clarice says and looks at me for support, but I know nothing about this Lecter guy.

"Starling, if you ever want to see your badge again, you'll head back and find out as much about this David as possible." Stanford says and he and Freedman get in the cop car.

"David is probably gone now and they're going to get their faces eaten off." Clarice mutters to me as the car drives away.

"Good!" I snort and toss my hair, getting in the passenger seat. "I hope they do and I hope they live through it so I can rip their arms off." Clarice frowns and gets in the driver seat.

"Liana, what's going on? Did something happen between you and Freedman?" I sigh.

"I just thought he was different, Clarice. I thought I finally had someone who got me and then BAM! It's all ripped away!" I snap and lean back. She nods.

"I know what you mean. Want to hear something crazy?"

"No." I hiss. "Because you don't know what I mean. You are so overly god damn emotional about everything. I mean, come on, Clarice, you're still obsessing about the god damn sheep after how many years has it been?"

Yes, I know it was a low blow. I know how much my sister loved the animals and I know how much it affected her, but I mean come on.

They're fucking sheep. Not humans. Sheep. It was uncles' job. That was what got him money. Toughen up and learn to deal, Clarice.

"I can count plenty of grudges that you hold, Liana and how dare you use that against me. You know how I felt after dad died-"

"So poor ten year old Clarice has to take care of her three younger siblings and blah blah blah!" I yell. She's driving and staying calmer then I could have ever. I realize that I'm starting to cry and getting worked up.

"Come on, Liana. Just tell me what happened."

"No!" I snap and the car 1pulls into the driveway. I get out and storm upstairs.

"Liana! Get back here!"

"No!"

"That was your older sister telling you to do something! Get down here!"

"I hope you die just like dad and the fucking sheep!" I scream, on the verge of tears and slam the door to the bathroom shut. Then I lock it and curl up on a towel. I was not coming out of here for the world. I fall asleep to the silence of the house and the sound of my MP3 player.

The next morning I wake up. Clarice is sipping a coffee at the table and I walk over. I'm going to give her the silent treatment. She looks distressed.

"What?" I bark at her. "What happened?"

"Seven people were killed. Police found the bodies. Guess what?" She says and looks up. She's not pissed anymore. "All prostitutes or dressed on very low cut clothing." I swear.

"You think this is my fault?" I say roughly. She shakes her head and puts the paper down.

"You tried, Liana. Even if we had gotten to the ward. David would have been gone." She says and passes me a coffee. "This does not look good on the FBI or me." She groans. I sigh.

"I'm sure everything will be fine." I soothe. "I mean, come on, Clarice, we got this! We're going to capture this son of a bitch and then I'll go back to New York and start over."

"Why seven? That's what I want to know." She wonders.

"I want to know how he kills seven people in one night without a single person hearing." I say. She nods.

"Do you want to come in today, Liana?" She asks. "You're no agent but you came all the way up from New York and all. If you want to sit in, you might be able to help." Clarice says. I shrug.

"I got nothing better to do." I say. We drive over to headquarters and I get out of the car, my black converses don't make as much noise as my heels.

"Not dressed up today?" She asks and looks over my jean shorts and low cut black shirt.

"Not worth it. No one to impress." I say as we ride up the elevator.

"I really wish you would tell me what went on with you two."

"I wish you would mind your own damn business." I hiss and then sigh. "Look, about what I said yesterday. I didn't mean any of it. I'm sorry, Clarice. I know what you-" Her posture stiffens.

"It's alright, Liana. Just forget about it." She assures me and we exit the elevator and enter the conference room.

"What's the prostitute still doing here?" Stanford asks.

"She's helping us. How did it go with Lecter last night?" My sister asks. I sit down in a chair.

"It didn't. We came in and said FBI and he wouldn't talk to any of us." Freedman says and then smiles at me. "Morning, Liana."

"Told you so! Now Clarice gets a shot." I insist and Stanford shakes his head.

"We have bigger things to worry about. What's the third circle?"

"Wait a second here, Stanford." I say and sit down. "What about last night's victims. Who were they?"

"Prostitutes. I already told you." Clarice says. I stick my lip out.

"Were they strippers or prostitutes?" I ask. Stanford rolls his eyes.

"Some get her out of here. Please?" He says. I stand up.

"No, really, I swear. It's important. Were they strippers or prostitutes?" I ask again. Freedman sighs.

"Well, considering the fact that they were all taken from the same area and all from different STRIP joints, my guess is that they are strippers. Why does it matter?" I look coldly at Freedman and toss my hair.

"Because prostitution is illegal, dumbass." I snap. He looks embarrassed. Stanford rolls his eyes.

"That's it! I've had enough of this. You have ten seconds to get the hooker out of here, Starling, or you go with her." He says. I plant my feet firmly to the floor.

"No, listen to me!" I yell. "Really, prostitution is illegal, so if they were prostitutes then he would of had to look harder for them. If they were just dancers, like me, then he could of just walked into any strip joint and asked for a private party, but even then it would have cost him a fortune, even if they were cheap. My private parties go from four hundred and up. It takes time and energy to do a private." I say all in one breath. The agents look at me shocked.

"So, you're saying that-"

"Trust me, most people in my line of work are not proud of what they do, no matter what they say to you. If he wanted a private or if he wanted more then third base, it would have been kept hush hush. No one would have known where they were going it would have been perfect to kill them." I said. Freedman smiled and Clarice leaned back.

"Shall I escort her to the door, Agent Stanford?" She asks. He shakes his head and I offer my hand to high five my sister. She just looks at me and grins.

"So can we track the killer?"

"No, but putting together what I know, he's not scared of us." I say. "All atheists from the same churches, all under the cover prostitute jobs? What's next?"

"Gluttony." Freedman says.

"Then why don't you wire me up again and we can take a little trip to the nearest overeaters anonymous. I mean, he goes to the church for the atheists, the strip club for the dancers, where's he going to go for the gluttons? Come on! Wire me up!"

"You!" Stanford laughs.

"You're so god damn thin, they wouldn't even let you in."

"Well, none of us exactly qualify, but what if I said I was a recovering anorexic? I saw this movie, where a girl with bulimia joined an overeaters anonymous group because she always felt fat. I could tell them that I have a wicked high metabolism." I say. I suggest and Freedman nods.

"Makes sense."

"Ok, here's what I want. I want you to go find out when and where there is a group near Faber's College." Stanford says pointing to Freedman. "And Starling, you need to go find out about David Portinari. Take the hooker." He says and Clarice and I walk over to the computer. She starts to type and I sit down on a chair. I didn't sleep well after my fight with Clarice.

I remember my eyes closing and I can feel myself trying to pull out of sleep land, but that didn't happen. I don't remember the dream, though, but I remember waking up screaming.

"No! No! I didn't! I swear! Stop!"

"Liana!" I hear my sister's voice like a savior and I my eyes shoot open. I look around. The three agents are standing over me. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." I snap.

"Anyways, what did you find?"

"Nothing. We're back to space one." Freedman says.

"What happened?"

"David Portinari is a fake name. There are NO records. No tax records, no receipts, no nothing, " Freedman says. I snap out of my nightmare.

"Someone might want to pay a visit to the strip clubs. Dancers talk and sometimes they keep records of pay. Also, private parties have to be booked, as do illegal affairs, if you know what I mean, they might have some record with a name, unless he used David."

"Ok. I have a-" Stanford starts, but I cut him off.

"Ok, how about y'all listen to me for three seconds." I say. "Freedman, you go fin out anything you can on these strippers. Names, and not stage names, real names also get me the info on the clubs, most importantly, policy and if they are legal or not. You like that kind of shit." I say. "Clarice, go over to the psychiatric ward and do your whole thing with Dr. Lecter. I don't know, but see what you do, and Stanford and I can head over to the OEA support group. Ok?" I said and everyone looked taken aback.

"You heard it!" Clarice snaps. Stanford and I walk out together and get in the car.

"Can you believe you just got bossed around by a hooker?" I snap and Stanford cringes.

"Let's just get this done with." He says. "You know the profile and the drill Thing in ear, don't take it off, get to it." He says and I take it and put it back in my ear. He sets up his dashboard thing and nods at me. I get out of the car and walk up to the stairs of the support group's office. Stanford gave me the room number and when I locate it I open up the door. If David, pr whatever his name is wants gluttony, he's got it this is the right place.

"Can I help you?" A small thin woman says and stands. She must have been the therapist.

"Yes, I'm looking for the overeaters anonymous support group." I say. She nods.

"This is it." She says. I have two lies and I'm trying to decide which makes more sense to say. "Can I help you?" I decide to go with number two.

"Yes, my name is Brandy and I'm a dancer. I've been coping with a case of bulimia for a long time now. Can I sit on for a session?" I ask and the woman looks at my small waist and large chest.

"A dancer?" She asks.

"Of a sort." I say and smile. "You see, I've been struggling with this for sometime and my family just doesn't understand." I beg. The woman looks hesitant, but agrees and finds me a chair. I sit down. No sooner have I sat down then the door opens a second time.

It looks like our guy.

My heart starts to race. My eyes are going to bulge.

"So sorry that I'm late, Miss Jetter." He says to the therapist.

"It's fine. Does anyone mind if Mr. Portinari joins us today? He's majoring in psychology and English literature."

"Of course not." Everyone choruses take a deep breath and cough.

"Are you alright?" Ms. Jetter asks me. I nod.

"Can I share a problem with the group?" I ask, trying to think of a way to let Stanford know that he's here.

"Of course, Miss- What did you say your name was?"

"Brandy."

"Of course. Go on."

"My boyfriend dumped me yesterday and I just took it hard. He said that he couldn't be with me until I ditched the eating disorder. I just, I thought that he was my guy. I mean, HE IS MY GUY." I say the last line louder.

"You got him?" Stanford asks. "Ok, Liana. Stay on with me and I'm calling for backup." I nod.

"Excuse me? Are you alright?" Someone asks me.

"Yes, I'm fine." David looks around.

"Do you have a last name?" He asks me. Shit he's on to me.

"Starli- Sterlington." I finish and he looks around. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Ms. Jetter, I have to go." He said.

"No!" I say quickly. "I mean, I need help with my problem. Are you going to leave me hanging?" I snap. He gets up and leaves.

"What's going on, Liana?" Stanford asks.

"He left!" I scream and bust out into the hallway but no one is there.

"Liana! Wait!" I hear him say and I take a deep breath and book down the hall as fast as I god damn could.

"Don't, Liana!" I hear him say again. I take the earpiece of and stomp on it with my sneaker.

"Shut up!" I scream and take off down the hall. No more people were going to die on my watch. Finally I catch sight of him and throw myself at the murder. He screams (like a girl) and throws me off of him. It dazes me and lets him get away. Stanford runs around the corner, gun ready. "He's gone." I say and touch my head.

"Shit!" He swear. "You god damn whore! It's your fault!" I shoot up.

"My fault? I almost got him!"

"If you had done what I'd said this could have been a clean run, but now he's gone!" Stanford yells and pulls me over to the car.

I hate to think it, but he's right. Stanford drives me back to the headquarters and I head down to the library. I get the cliff notes version of Dante's Inferno and a few other religious books and stuff. Freedman is sitting in the office when I get back up.

"What did you find out?" I ask.

"Three of the girls were high school students." He says. I lie back.

"Wait, the second circle, isn't stripper, it's lust. Did you find out about the girls?"

"Already a step ahead of you, Liana. The girls had dirt reputations back at school."

"Ok, and all the dancers were they-"

"They were doing more then dancing. You were right." He says. I pick up the book and flip over to the section on gluttony and read for a little. I gasp and turn to Stanford after a few minutes.

"It's not literal." I whisper. "Gluttony is just a word for like overdo. In here everyone who overdoes on something is going to hell. Like tobacco, alcohol, anything!" I say and stand. "This is hopeless! What do we do? Hit every rehab group in the entire town!" I scream and storm out of the office.

The case seems hopeless and right now all I want to do is curl up with a drink and sit in a pot of my own misery. That's what I did when I got back to Clarice's house, except she didn't have any drinks so I had to settle for a latté that I made. I turned on the TV and started some cheap soap opera. I also fell asleep within the five-minute mark on the couch.

Why does bad stuff happen to good people? How many people will die tonight? How many tomorrow? Maybe if I had listened to Stanford, none, but because I had to go play hero and chase the killer, he is not only onto us, but more people are going to die tonight. More lives cut short. More people who would never get to wake up and smell the fresh air again. More people who would never drink to good health again and more people who would never get to kiss their family good by as they leave for work.

1


	5. Power Out

My sister's house was kind of becoming more like a home to me and that freaked me out. I hadn't put away my many tubes of makeup after use anymore; they lay all over the bathroom. I had gone out and along with many cliff notes versions of Dante's Inferno, I had bought a pajama set and it was not silk or lace. Clarice got up at four o'clock every morning to run so when I woke up at seven, she was always sitting at the table, with a cup of coffee and her files or the paper.

"What's new?" I'll always ask her as she pours me a cup of coffee and she'll give me the rundown on the case or the news or something, that's what happened the last night, but today was different. Today, I sit down next to her and she puts the paper down.

"Morning." She says with a smile and a find myself smiling back.

"Hey."

"I herd you messed up yesterday." She says to me and I get up to make toast.

"By Stanford's rules, not mine."

"Stanford's rules are the federal laws, Liana. Please, I know you don't like him but you need to follow orders." I sigh, to tired to fight with her right now.

"Whatever." I mutter. "How many last night?"

"Seven, all addicts. You were right, Liana." She says and I close my eyes.

"Liana? Please tell me what happened with Freedman." She begs. I stick my lip out and Clarice sighs. "Yesterday I went to see Dr. Lecter and is surprised me but he wasn't angry at all." She says. I don't look up.

"Did you expect him to be angry?" I ask. Clarice nods.

"Did you dress up to see Freedman?" She says and butters the toast.

"I put some new makeup on. And new earrings. And a necklace." I say and pause. "Oh, hell, who am I kidding? Yes, Clarice I did."

"I've been on probation for about a month helping with office work. A few weeks into my sentence, Lecter wrote me a note. I turned it in and the traced the paper and ink, he came here to see me, and I called the cops. I thought it would get me my job back, but I was wrong. What happened when you got to Freedman's house?"

"I sat back and we talked a little about the case and about life and all. It was light conversation. So, what happened when you went to see the doctor?" I say, getting more and more curious.

"He asked me how I was and we started to talk. I asked what he knew about the case and he said that he knew David and that wasn't his real name. He wouldn't tell me much though."

"You'll be able to get it out of him. After we talked for a little he asked if I was hungry and I said no. How do you feel about Dr. Lecter?"

"I respect him. Does that make any sense to you, Liana?"

"Kind of some. Freedman started to kiss me and I figured it was ok, I mean just first base, right?"

"It was a little like a abusive relationship with him. He would mess with my head until I snapped and then I'd come running back for more and he'd do it again, but when all came down to all he never would have hurt me. He saved my life. Did you know? Like you and Ivan, he kicked you around, but he would never kill you. Believe me, I know about these things."

"I let him score, Clarice. He and I kind of...well...you know." I said and she bit her lip. "I was ok though." I said, not stopping to let her talk. "I thought that I loved him and then he drove me over and asked me how much it was. At first I didn't know what he meant but then I figured it out and ...hey, I gained four hundred bucks."

"What a idiot. To pass up a girl like you." She says to me and takes me in her arms. I feel like the baby sister again. "Your smart and from what I hear a sensational dancer and you have a mind of your own and you are the prettiest girl I know. Trust me, Liana. He's not worth your time." She says and I nod.

"Men are assholes. They're never-"

"Ok, ok, just stop that. You know that's not true." Clarice reasons and stands up. I sigh.

"I guess you're right. So what are you doing today?"

"Going back to Baltimore Psych. I know I can get something out of Lecter. What about you?"

"I'm done with this case. I swear to you, I am. I'm heading over to some of the clubs to see if I can make some money. Sometimes they take walk ins. You ok with that?"

"I wish you would go over to the local convince store instead and maybe the local supermarket or-"

"Clarice, I haven't worked a day in my life and I don't plan to start now. I love dancing." I say and walk into the bathroom to get ready. I'm going to an audition. I think, though I know I'll get the job. Clubs can't afford to not a hire a dancer that can do pole tricks.

I strip my clothing and peel on fishnets and a short plaid skirt. I could not afford to look sloppy. I reach around for my makeup, but start to get a little worried when I can't find my lipstick.

"Clarice! Have you seen the red lipstick?" I call and walk out into the open. She looks up.

"God, Liana, get a shirt on and no." I look down.

"This is my shirt, stupid." I say and smirk at her. I enjoy the reaction that I get from her. "Have you seen the lipstick? I kind of really need it." I say and she sighs.

"I haven't seen the lipstick, Liana, but I might have some if you want to check my room." She says and I walk into her bedroom. I walk over to her drawer and pull it out, taking the brightest red I could find. If I layered it thick it would work.

Then I look up and scream. On her mirror written in red are the words 'Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.' I scream louder and she comes running in and gasps.

"It's-It's blood." I choke out. Clarice beckons me out of the room and calls a number on her phone.

"Stanford? Yes, I have. Yes, ok. I'm sure she will. Can you get a translation? Ok, he knows we're on the case then. He wants to toy with us. Just like Lecter. I'm going back today. Of course. She'll come in and sit with you. You what? Oh, she'd love to. I'm sure she would. No, it won't be an issue, but you might want to get forensics down to-Shit. Ok, thanks." She says and hangs up the phone.

"Liana, they're sending you to audition at a very high end strip club today. They think that he's going to be targeting richer playboy types. Are you in? I figured since you needed a job anyways." I nod.

"Sure thing." I say, pulling myself together. She nods and escorts me over to the car. "What's the next circle?" I ask and Clarice looks over.

"Greed."

"And after that?"

"I thought you read the cliff notes."

"So what am I supposed to do? I have the whole fucking thing memorized?"

"No, I suppose not. After that it's anger. Do you know what the writing on the mirror meant?"

"Am I supposed to?" I snap.

"It means abandon all hope ye who enter here. Ring any belles?"

"That's what was written on the gates." I say. She nods. "Clarice, does it freak you out that he know where you live?"

"He wouldn't be the first killer. Don't let it get to you, Liana. He's past lust." She says, attempting to lighten the mood. I playfully slap her arm.

"Yah, but he aint past heresy yet." I snip back and she chuckles.

"Cliff notes worked. Going against mainstream beliefs. That's us for you." She jokes again. I laugh. She pulls up. I pick up the black and red bag filled with my makeup and the cliff notes books. We enter the office and the heaps of files have grown like my trust for my sister over the last few days-immensely. I sit down and start to read my book. The agents start to talk and over analyze a bunch of shit.

"How was the whore killed?" Freedman asked.

"Dancer." I snap.

"Whatever. How was she killed?"

"Quite a interesting way. They were all found to have been sliced with fan blades." I cringe and try not to look at the pictures.

"Liana? Look in the book. How were the lustful tortured?" I flip pages.

"A swirl of like air. A tornado."

"There's symmetry for you." Stanford says.

"And the gluttons?" He asks and leans over.

"Get away. I'll tell." I say and pull away. "Stop breathing down my shirt." Clarice smiles. "They're like forced to live in mud." I say over the noise of the fan. Freedman picks up a photo.

" The victims here drowned in swamps."

"Makes sense." I say and close my eyes.

"How are the greedy tortured?" Stanford asks and grabs my book.

"Find your own fucking book and give mine back." I hiss.

"Go get a fucking life and leave my office, you impulsive whore." He hisses.

"Fine, who'll go to your audition for you then? Perhaps Freedman?" I ask with mock innocence.

"They joust with weapons pushed by their chest." Stanford says. I shudder again.

"How do you do your jobs? This is some gross shit."

"Someone get her out of here! Don't you have to be getting ready for your audition?" He asks. I nod and take my bag out.

"I should get going to. Stanford? You'll take her over? Wire her up again?" Clarice asks. He nods.

"No more funny business, though." He says to me. I guess maybe he really does like my sister enough to humor her. I walk over to the bathroom and kick the door open then start to apply makeup. Stanford comes and gets me after a few minutes. We get in the car and he drives me over to a club. It has a red carpet and pillar with those lava things in them. I see the girls walking in. I'm not going to lie it intimidated me. I was the best out of all the dancers back at home, but here, I wasn't so sure.

"Ok, so, they know you're coming to audition. Since you've officially made yourself a known face with the unsub-"

"David, his name is David." I say. Stanford rolls his eyes.

"David, you need to act like you are latterly just here for a audition." I turn to face Stanford. He doesn't smile. He stays stern faced and cold, like always.

"Can I ask about your ring? Are you married?"

"No, you can not ask, and no I will not answer." He says. "But it's complicated." He adds and passes me the headset. "Any of this crap about you taking him on yourself and I'll come in and beat the shit out of you." He says and I nod then look back at the dancers. A girl with creamy mocha skin just walked in. She's tall and slender and has almond eyes. She's much prettier then me and her dress is short and purple. It's silk. These girls make good money. I can see that she has curves in all the right places. She smiles and laughs with who looks like he could be her manager.

"See where the right attitude gets you?" Stanford says. I nod and gulp.

"I wish I was taller." I mutter. Did I really just say that? I think, but I can't stop. "And I wish my skin was tanner, and I wish my hair was redder, and I wish my boobs were a cup size bugger. Shit Stanford, what do I have on these girls?" I ask. He sighs.

"My wife left me a week ago. That's what I always thought. What do those other mean have? But you know what, Liana? It's no use thinking that. Walk in there like you own the place and dance your ass off, like I know you can." He says. I turn to face him and smile.

"Do you mean that?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"The bit about my wife? Yes, the part about me knowing you can? No." He says and I take a deep breath.

"You're not very motivational."

"Because I know you're just fishing for complements." He says and I laugh and get out of the car.

"If I get this job, you can have a free show."

"Me and half the world." I laugh again, Stanford does nothing.

"Remember the other reason you're there, Liana. Locate the un-David. Find him and get me in there." I nod and look at the time. It's already six. I start to get out but Stanford stops me.

"Liana, have some of the confidence I know you own. Go dance. Do what you do best and don't let this morning freak you out. If he knows where you live and he wanted to kill you, he would have done it last night, trust me, Liana. This guy is looking for a show and you're not the profile of people he needs." He says. I look down at him with determination in my eyes.

"You know something, hotshot?" I say. "That's the best you've given me all week." I say and flounce in on my heels.

"Ok, Liana. Stage name, remember?"

"My stage name is Brandy." I say to him, out of the corner of my mouth, so that no one can hear me talking to myself.

"No, you slut, you're saying it's Beatrice. She was the one Dante loves. David used her last name for his fake one. Trust me, you'll get his attention."

"This guy has a bad obsession." I whisper again. Stanford chuckles.

"Just do it, you god damn ho."

"Got it, dickweed." I say and walk into the private room I was instructed to. I man is sitting there, smoking in a white suit.

"You called about a seven o'clock audition?"

"You bet I did."

"What's your name, sweetheart?" He asks. The man comforts me. He reminds me of Charlie, who used to be my friend until he fired me.

"Brandy, but my stage name is Beatrice."

"Ok, darling, I'm turning a song on. Show me what you got and don't be shy, honey." He says and the music comes on. I get up on the stage and try to remember what they killed back in New York. I start to gyrate and then slowly move to the pole, trying out a few of the tricks. The man is smiling at me. Then I make a risky move. Anywhere else I would have been guarantee a job, but with such a high-end place, I had no idea. I walk over to the man and start to play with the buttons on his jacket. Then I sit down on the chair next to him and sway to the music. The song ends.

"Bet you liked that." I say and wink. He smiles at me.

"I'm Oscar." He says and sticks out a hand.

"You already know me." I say. He nods and opens the door.

"Ok, sweetheart. Party room in there. Seven guys all real rich. Go in there and do your thing. Last part of the audition." I wink and with the rest of my confidence walk in.

"You see him, Liana?" Stanford asks.

"Nope, I just got finished dry humping a pimp. I'm heading into a part room." I say and open the door and smile. A group of men is all sitting in chairs. There's a stage in the middle.

"Remember, Liana, in the words of a very wise person. Prostitution is illegal, dipshit." Stanford says. I ignore him and make eye contact with the men. I count seven.

"I'm Beatrice." I say and get up on the stage and start to dance. I have them all captivated. They look like they fit our profile. They all have expensive drinks and lots of shit on them. Phones and all.

They tip pretty well too.

Then the neon lights go out. I hear chairs fall and the men exclaiming. One of them starts to bang on the locked door.

"Liana, what's going on?" Stanford asks and I'm to scared to speak. I grab onto the pole, not knowing what to do. "Liana! Talk to me!" Stanford demands.

"The lights are out. Everyone's screaming." I finally manage.

"Hold on, Liana. I'm coming in there. Is it a power out or-"

"Trust me, power is to important for a strip joint. Electricity would be the first thing a place like this secures. Don't come in Stanford." I say.

"Seven people. Seven minutes. One survivor. Pape Satàn, pape Satàn aleppe!" I hear a voice say and then the door slams again and I don't know who (probably me) screams and all I can hear is the throwing of glace bottles and screaming.

"I have a company!"

"I'll kill you!"

" I need to get out of here!"

Not one mention of family. Just of business and of material. I scream more and grip onto the pole for support. How could people be this quick to violence? How could people do this to each other? No one tried to door, no one does anything. They just kill. I think and then I feel a glass bottle hit my shoulder and I topple off of the stage and hit my head on the wall.

"Liana! Don't move from where you are. Don't talk, I'm coming in. Ok?" Stanford says and it's to late for me to say anything because my entire world fades into a pitch black and I close my eyes. Joust themselves forever. I think. They're fighting to the death, just like that son of a bitch wants. No! Don't give him what he wants. Don't do that! Just calm down and wait for the FBI. You might survive if you weren't so greedy fir life and for your own life. Calm down, please. I think, but to no avail because the words won't come to me.

I close my eyes. I'm going to die and I'm going to hell. Second circle, baby. I think and let myself slip into darkness. My last thought before the entire scene fades are; I damn well hope my sister knows that I take back everything I said the other night and that I didn't mean a word of it.


	6. It Could Have Been You

I woke up on a hospital bed with Stanford sitting next to me. My head was throbbing and I strained to remember what happened. Strip club. Audition. Really rich and greedy men. Fast music. Pole with water inside of them. Seven inch heels. Power out. Screaming.

"Liana?" I hear a voice say. I turn my head around. Stanford.

"Stanford, what happened?"

"You got knocked out in the rush."

"No, to the men. What happened to you and the men and David and-"

"They're dead. All seven of them. it was a gory scene. You should be glad you were knocked out. I didn't get in there in time to get him."

"I didn't take the ear thing off." I whisper. Stanford raises an eyebrow.

"Did you have plans to?"

"Maybe I did."

"You're a idiot." He says to me and I chuckle.

"Where's my sister? Is she here?" I ask and Stanford shakes his head. I called her and told her to come but she's making progress with Dr. Lecter and then I told her to stay. I thought that you'd be ok with that, since you're not that bad off."

"Yah, that's fine. When can I get out of here?" I ask and Stanford shrugs.

"I'll sit with you if you want, I mean just until your sister can come." I smile.

"That would be great." I say and lie back. "You know what I want to know? How this guy always manages to pull this off. I mean, he must be a face that people are ok with or he wouldn't be able to do this."

"Maybe he has a child with him?" Stanford says.

"In a strip club? No way." I finish and raise an eyebrow at Stanford.

"Anyways, he would be someone that people would let into their house."

" He's in college, would that make him more approachable?"

"That doesn't explain the two high school girls and the addicts."

"Well, the addicts are easy." I say. "Even I know that. He just shows up and says he's an intern and then stalks and kills them. The high school girls he could have just asked around and killed."

"Wait, a second, Liana. Why did Dante go down to hell?" He asked. I stuck my lip out.

"I have no idea. I missed that part in cliff notes."

"It was for redemption. He went down for redemption."

"Wait a second...If Dante went down to hell for redemption then maybe this guy is killing people for a crime that he did?"

"Which would explain the therapy with Lecter." Stanford says.

"And wait a second, he would by hyper religious." I point out and Stanford nods. "What happens next?" I ask.

"Well, it's the fifth circle, anger." Stanford says.

"So what the fuck is he going to do? Kill everyone who yells at someone on the street? Because that's a shit load more then seven people." I hiss.

"I don't know, Liana." The door slammed open. Ivan stood in the door. My eyes widened.

"God damn it! God fucking damn it!" He screams and walks over. "The apartment! Oh, you fucking whore!" He yells. Stanford stands up. I look over, my eyes are wide.

"Who are you?" He demands.

"Her husband! I put up with that-"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Stanford says and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I got no where else to go because she left and we can't pay off the rent no more!" Stanford looks down at me and I shake my head.

"Leave now." Stanford says. Ivan raises his fist to deck Stanford.

"I'll have you know that assaulting a federal agent is a crime." He says and shows Ivan to the door. I relax a little. "It's ok." He says to me and I nod.

"I know." The door bursts open again and my sister comes in looking quite frantic.

"Jesus, you had me scared." She says and walks over. "I just finished up with Lecter and I came over here. Was that Ivan just coming out? What happened, Liana?" She rapid fires questions at me and I try my best to answer them all.

To her credit, she does seem genuinely worried about my wellbeing. Then she turns to Stanford.

"I know she can be a handful. Thank you so much." She says.

"I'm right here." I tease and she smiles another smile of relief. "What did Lecter say to you?"

"He's been helping David, giving him locations and all. That's how we always know where to go. Places that Lecter knows we'll try." I snap.

"Clarice, do you remember that day, back at the orphanage, when I wanted to celebrate my birthday, but no one would listen to me, as they didn't do parties, so I threw a tantrum and they never got me a cake or anything, but they spent the day trying to calm me down?" I ask her. She nods. "Is that what Lecter's doing it for? Did he find the first psych student he could get and start to fuck with his head? If he found a religious fanatic that would be even better."

"What does the story about the orphanage matter?" Stanford asks. I look into his eyes and then my sister's.

"Clarice, Lecter's helping David because he knows that you guys will put two and two together. He wants your attention, Clarice. David's just a pawn; this whole Dante thing is a scam. You're the one that he wants, Clarice, and right now, we're just playing into it."

"So, if we stop visiting then the crimes will stop?" Stanford asks.

"No." My sister says. "If we stop they crimes will keep going. We can't let him know our hand yet." She says and sits down and starts to think. "I got it." She exclaims after a few minutes. "If I got kidnapped by David and Lecter didn't know then he might tell you something about David that could lead to his arrest."

"Wait, so what are you saying?" I asked. Stanford shakes Clarice's hand. "I don't get it." I whine.

"If Lecter thought that David kidnapped me and someone who was close to me came down in tears, begging for help, Lecter is no longer getting my attention, and I know this sound strange, but he cares about me and I know that he'll help you. He'll mess with your head, but I know he'll help." Clarice says.

"When you say 'you,' Clarice. You do mean that in the hypothetical sense, right? You could be anyone." I say, fearing the answer.

"No, Liana. You mean you. I'm sending you in to see Lecter tomorrow." She says, clearly proud of her idea.

"Is this a fucking joke?" I snap. "No way no hell! That's a fucking terrible idea! The worst one yet! No way am I going to see him! Find someone else, I'm through with this!" I hiss and close my eyes.

I'm doe with playing actress for them. They can find someone new because I herd about this Lecter guy and I was going nowhere near Baltimore Psych Hospital and the world wouldn't change my mind. Stanford sighs and gets up.

"Feel better, Liana. Good work." He says and walks out, leaving me and my sister.

"No god damn way." I whisper to her. "No fucking way am I going near that-that thing." I hiss and she looks around.

"Fine." She says and gets up. "Anger is the next circle, Liana." She says. "They were made to swim in the river Styx for all of eternity and fight each other. More people are going to die." She whispers. "More people are going to get hurt." She says.

"Whatever. They're not my issue." I snap, contrary to everything I have thought so far.

"It could have been you or me, Liana. Just think about that. How would you feel if it was me?" She asks and turns around, walking out.


	7. Not Getting Away With This

I was let out the next morning with only a few bruises and a minor sprain in my ankle. The nurse told me to rest on it. I was only happy to oblige. Stanford came and picked me up and to be honest, I was surprised. He usually referred to me as 'the prostitute' or 'the hooker' but today he called me by my name. I got home and opened the door.

"Clarice!" I call and walk in, setting the bag down on the couch. "Clarice, I'm home!" I call and she comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered and in a red blazer and a black skirt.

"Liana, how are you? Did Freedman drop you off?"

"Stanford." I correct. She nods. I look over her face. She's wearing pink lipstick and mascara.

"You're going out?" I ask. She nods.

"On business." She corrects.

"Yah, my kind of business, by the looks of that." I snap and she smiles a bit.

"I'd never. I'm going back to Baltimore Psych. Since you won't go, I have to use other methods of convincing Dr. Lecter to talk." She says to me and picks up her business case. I lie back on the couch.

"Clarice, you know I would help you if I could." I say. She ignores me. "Aw, come on, don't be in a pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed at you, Liana."

She sounds pretty pissed at me.

"Just go flirt with the cannibalistic serial killer." I snap. "I'm sure that we'll get somewhere with it now."

"We? Since when are you a part of the FBI?" She hisses.

"Since you dragged me out of New York and here to play dress up and to get back together." I bite back. She gives me a nasty look and slams the door shut. I hear the car engine and walk over to the table. I pick up the paper and take a few glances around it. On the front page there is a picture of seven faces and I know that these are today's victims. The last face is Ivan's.

I can't exactly say I was heartbroken, though I know how that makes me sound, but I was almost happy. It felt like a burden was being lifted from my chest. Now I had no ties and no one left to hurt me. Except Freedman. I could still feel the rush of his skin and I could hear my heavy breathing. I wanted to be his girl more then anything in the world. But not his whore. His only girl. I wanted to be the only one that he loved and I wanted him to love me for more then my looks. I finished the coffee and didn't actually bother to get dressed. Instead I walked over to Clarice's computer with another cup of coffee and started to Google the names of the victims.

Two of them were wrestlers, and three of them all belonged to anger management support groups. One of them was a burglar and the last one was Ivan. Just for the hell of it I goggled his name too.

Nothing came up. The few gears in my head were turning. David must have been there that night. I spend that next few hours going through names and dates and people and places. I don't know how my sister manages to keep all of that in her head. The phone rings and I'm almost happy because the quiet was getting eerie.

"Yah?" I say into the receiver.

"It's Freedman." My heart skips another beat.

"Hey, Freedman."

"I was wondering if you were free tonight?" He asked.

"Sorry. I can't." I gush sarcastically. "I have a appointment. I'll be all night." I snap and hang the phone up. It rings again.

"Freedman, god damn it!" I yell. It's not Freedman. It's my sister.

"Liana? Say, I'm heading home later tonight. Ok? Are you going to be ok?"

"I'm fine." I say and slam the phone down, lying on the couch. A few hours pass and I'm still sipping one glass of coffee. It's late now. Ten o'clock to be exact. I flip on the TV.

"Fucking news reporters." I snap and shut it off. Stories about my sister and stories about the FBI grace all of the channels and my sister has no good tapes to watch so that's that. I make another cup of coffee and walk into the bathroom. The phone rings. I picked it up.

"Liana? Hello?"

"Yah? Who's this?"

"This is Freedman. Is your sister there?" He asked.

"No, she never came home. Is she over there?"

"Clearly not, if I just asked you where she was."

"Ok, so is she back at Baltimore Psych?"

"No, we checked there." Freedman said. I looked around, suddenly a little paranoid. I swallowed. We just start a new case. She goes to visit an (air quote) old friend and then goes missing? Coincidence? I think not.

"Well, I'll come right over. We can start narrowing the-"

"Ok, Liana." Freedman says and I hang the phone up and since there's no car, start on the mile walk over to the FBI headquarters. I get there by four in the morning. Freedman and Stanford are waiting near the elevator.

"Ok, so why don't I check around town and Stanford can go-"

"No." Freedman cuts me off. I look confused.

"Liana, this is no longer your concern. I'm asking that you leave. She's been missing for a few hours. There is nothing we can do." He says. My eyes widen and he opens his wallet. "Take some money and go back to New York. Ivan's gone so maybe you can get your job back and-"

"Is this a fucking joke?" I snap. "She's missing, you son of a bitch and if you don't believe me then I'll find her myself! I'm not taking any more money from you, bastard." I snap and look to Stanford for support. He shakes his head and pulls out his wallet.

"Five hundred. Go call a cab and get a hotel room back in New York. I'm sorry, Liana. I'll call you if we find anything." Stanford says and I look around.

My sister saved my life. She helped me out of New York and she took me in. she got me something worth doing with my life and she was always there for me. I needed to find her. Father would have wanted it that way. The last words I said to her were angry and she and I left in a fight. I needed to find her.

"Please, Freedman. I'm begging you. I'll do it again, free, just let me help you." I begged. He shook his head. Stanford just looked sorry for me. I look back and take the money. "Guess my screw doesn't mean that much. Better go find a new whore of the night, you god damn son of a bitch!" I say and flounce off.

No way. No god damn way are they getting away with this. I think as I storm out of the building. I knew where I was going. I was going to speak with the last person who saw my sister. The one who she wanted me to talk too and the one that everyone was scared of. Hannibal Lecter was the last one who saw her and I needed information, because cannibalistic serial killer or not, I was going to get what I wanted.

My sister needed me and I wasn't sure what happened to her, but all I knew was that she had a schedule and never broke it. Something wasn't right and Hannibal Lecter knows something.

It was going to be easy because no one, not even a serial killer could resist the charm of a pretty girl. Everyone loved a bright smile and a few eyelash bats and maybe a flash and I'd get what I wanted out of Lecter. I was sure of it. Hey, it worked for my sister. Don't tell me all she did to get Lecter's respect was talk. Even she's not that good.


	8. Cheap

I don't know how I did it, but I managed to walk all the way over to Baltimore Psych in six-inch heels after getting directions. It was a tall stone building and kind of reminded me of a castle. I opened the door and looked around. A man was sitting at the desk.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for my sister. She came here earlier. Short, red hair, skinny, kind of pretty. She came to see a Dr. Lecter. Is she here?" I ask. The man shakes his head.

"I just got on duty. I'm sorry." I sigh.

"Can I see Dr. Lecter then?" I ask and the man looks at me strange.

"You can try. I'm not sure if he'll want to see you." He says and picks up a key ring. "Can I get your name?"

"Brandy Starling." I say, putting an emphasis on my last name. He nods and walks down the stair.

"Wait here, please. I'll come back up to get you." The man says. I cough and sit down in a chair. He comes back up after a few minutes. "Dr. Lecter says he'll see you. I'm going to tell you now. Don't tell him anything. He convinced his cell mate to hang himself a few months back and he's gotten out more times then you can say." I nod, suddenly feeling a little jumpy. I tap my high heel on the ground and bite my lip as I stand up and we walk down the stairs.

"You know, I think I knew your sister. Was her name Clarice? She's a old friend." I nod.

"Yah. She's missing but no one believes me. "

"I'm Barney. Are you with the FBI to?"

"No. I'm a stripper." I say and he laughs.

"No, really." I say with a serious face. He still doesn't look like he believes me but it doesn't matter. I descend deeper into the hospital until we reach a basement. Barney opens the door for me and I look in.

"Just think about your sister. No one believed she could do it either, but she proved them wrong. " He says. I found the man to be a comfort. I don't know why, but I did. He walked me up to the last cell in the row. "Dr. Lecter? This is Brandy Starling, Clarice' sister." He sizes me up and I wrap the pea coat a little tighter around my body. "I'll leave you two." Barney says and closes the door, locking it. I jump at the sound a little.

"Hey, I'm Clarice's sister." I stutter out.

"Yes, I've herd. Miss Brandy Starling? Is that your real name?"

"Why?"

"Because there's power in a name, Miss Starling, and I'd like to know what your given name was. Not a fake one."

"Liana." I say. "Brandy's a stage name."

"You're a actress?" He asks. I shake my head.

"A dancer. Now my sister never came home last night. Do you know what happened to her? Does this have to do with David? Do you know where she is?"

"I do not."

"Are you lying to me?" I snap. He shakes his head. I take a deep breath and smile, taking my coat off to reveal the bust black tank top and my short plaid skirt. "Because I don't like bad boys." I flirt and press my body up to the cage, locking the glass seductively. It was gross. Imagine how many germs. If this was what it took to find my sister then so be it. Dr. Lecter didn't flinch.

"Sit down, Miss Starling." He says to me without blinking an eye and I don't. I'm stunned. Married men, single men, college kids, I've danced for them all and they always got all big eyed and tipped pretty well. "Come on now, you really think that's going to get you what you want?" He asks me and I nod. "It's not. You see, Liana, do you know what a social circle is?" I nod.

"I'm no idiot, Dr. Lecter."

"Right, of course, you're just cheap, not a idiot, just never been to college, probably dropped out of high school, as your sister was a all A's student. Where were you when she graduated valedictorian? Out smoking on the street? Maybe you were having intercourse with one of boys in class? Do you consider yourself a failure next to her, Liana? What about when she came here to undergo FBI training? Were you already out in the world? Married, and doing pretty well? Or so you thought until your sister called you up for help. Were you thrilled to hear her desperate, Liana?" He asked. "Do you like to know that you're needed by your sister because you know that she's probably the only one in the world who needs you? If you disappeared off the face of this world tonight do you think that anyone would be down here looking for you?" I stick my lip out.

"I don't know what you think you're playing at, Dr. Lecter, but-"

"Because you and Clarice just aren't in the same social circles, Liana. She earns a living through hard work and perseverance, two things that you know nothing off. You take off your coat and bat your eyelashes and slide your ass on a pole and men stick money in your underwear. Is that satisfying, Liana?"

"Yes, in a matter of fact it is. I make up to one thousand dollars a night."

"You and your sister just aren't in the same social circles. How would your father feel?" He asked. He was starting to piss me off.

"My sister is missing and I know you know something. Where the hell is she?" I snap. He just sits there.

"I don't know where your sister is, Liana." He says. I decide to try one more time. He'd succumb to me. They all did.

"Come on, bad boy. Bite me." I say stepping up to the glass. "Just tell me where she is, doctor. I've never done a doctor before, but if you tell me, I'll arrange a little-"

"Please leave. I'm asking you once, Liana. It's rather disgusting the way you sit here and solicit me instead of asking me what I know."

"I already tried asking you what you know, dipshit! You're not telling me anything! What the fuck happened to her!"

"Do you want her back because you love her, Liana? Or do you feel it to be a burden, a job that being a sister is? Do you wish that you never left New York? Do you still hear the honk of the taxies and the screaming of the people? Will that always be home? Do you wish that your sister was gone and are you almost happy that-"

"You know what? Fuck you." I yell. "I love my sister and I'm here to get her back! Now if you ever cared about her, if you ever loved her, you would help me!" I scream and kick the glass of his cell and storm out, past Barney and past the desk. I call a cab and head home for the night.  
I was unsure and alone. The house was quiet and I felt scared here. Clarice could be out getting tortured or beat up or something and I can't do anything. Dr. Lecter will probably never talk to me again.

"I need a fucking drink." I mutter and the phone rings. "Who is it?" I snap.

"Hello, Brandy."

"Who is it?"

"Oh I think you know." It says and my blood runs cold.

"David..." I mutter and then raise my tone. "Where is she, you god damn son of a fucking bitch?" I snap. "Where the fuck is she!" I yell.

"She's alive. Trust me, Brandy, but you'll need to come deep down into the madness of inferno to find her. Think hard, Brandy. What is insanity?"

"Look in the fucking dictionary, there's a god damn picture of you." I hiss. He laughs.

"If you want to find your sister, you'll have to come deeper into hell, Brandy Starling, or should I say, Liana." I gulp. This guy knows things.

"Let me know if she's alive first. How do I know you're not lying?" I ask.

"I'll put her on." He said and there was silence, then my sister.

"Liana, listen to me, do not do anything, leave this to the cops. I swear, I'll be fine, just-"

"Enough?" He asks. I nod.

"What do I need to do to get her back?"

"Come to Inferno with me. Go to the next crime scene, because I assure you there will be one. I'll leave you a clue there and never tell anyone about this call, Liana." He says and I nod.

"Ok, ok, I'll play." I say and he laughs.

"Good. Abandon all hope when you enter here, Liana. Travel deeper into the pit of despair and insanity."

"And you have entered the Twilight Zone." I taunt. He ignores me.

"I left you a gift on the bathroom sink. Best wishes and good luck." He said and I gulped as the line went dead. I walked into the bathroom. There on the sink was a tube of bright red lipstick. It was mine. I picked it up and leaned over the toilet.

I was sick most of the night.


	9. Fault

When I woke up this morning I knew what I was going to do. I slip on some of my sisters clothing and pull my hair into a tight bun spraying it with as much hairspray as the bottle allows. I also borrow some of her things, including her necklace and earring, both pearl and her fancy pen that I put in my pocket. I size myself up in the mirror.

"Well, what do you know!" I exclaim. "I look like I went to college!" I exclaim with a chuckle. Lecter won't play by my rules? I'll have to try a different game. I think and the door things. I open it. It's Freedman.

"Liana-" He starts.

"Miss Starling." I correct with a pout. He sighs.

"Are you still angry at me? You know, for the other night? I paid you, Liana, don't forget that I-"

"Get out." I snap. "Get the fuck out." I hiss at Freedman and shove him to the door.

"Liana, I know what you did yesterday. I know you visited Lecter." He says.

"And how is this your business?" I say with my most menacing look. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I know this is tough on you, but you need to leave this to us, doll." He says. I snap my hand down on his and push it off.

"Well, FYI, doll." I say sarcastically. "I'm not a part of your little FBI club, so you need to screw off and mind your own business, because what I do? Is none of yours." I hiss and Freed man looks down.

"Honey, that man is-"

"Get out." I say and Freedman takes a bit of my hair and twirls it.

"I care about you, Liana and I want what's best for you. Stay away from Lecter." He says. I raised my hand and brought it down across his face.

"My sister has gone missing and you are doing nothing!" I yell. "It's been twenty four hours! Send out flairs! Talk to witnesses! Trace the god damn fucking phone number do something!" I scream at Freedman and raise my hand to slap him again, but he grabs it and we lock eyes. Freedman pulls me closer and our lips meet for the second time. I pulled away and shook of the electricity.

"Get." I start in a slow tone and then raise my voice. "The fuck out of my house!" I yell and he looks down, probably embarrassed and starts to walk out.

"And get a wife and sense of commitment while you're there!" I yell after him and after a few coats of lipstick and brush my teeth and then I got in the car and I drove over to the hospital again. Barney was there.

"Hello, Miss Starling. Can I help you?" He asks.

"I need to see Lecter again. I have a few questions. The FBI is doing nothing to help her!" He sighs.

"Miss Starling, do you really think that this is a good idea?" He asks. I look down. No, but I need in there. I think.

"You know the last thing Clarice and I did was fight? Did you know the killer called my house and he told me that he had her and she came on the phone and told me not to help her? I would never have done that for her, Barney. Please let me in there." I beg and he looks around.

"Miss Starling, this is breaking some rules and-"

"Barney, please." I beg, tempted to flash him, but push the idea away. "I need to find Clarice and I need to get this case back onto the radar. Please, please, please." I said and he looks around.

"I'll let you in, Miss Starling." He says. "But this can't go public." I crossed my heart.

"I swear." I said and threw my arms around Barney. "I swear to god, it won't. Thank you! Thank you!" I said and he unlocked the door.

"You remember the rules, Miss Starling." He says and I nod. "You made him very angry last time. I think you should-"

"I think I'll do what it takes to get my sister back." I said and turned around. "I get scared at night when she's not home now, Barney. I slept on the couch at her place and she welcomed me with god damn open arms. She saved my life three times in the last week and quite a lot when we were younger kids. I was always climbing up a tree or yelling at a drunk or-"

"I can tell you were close."

"Not at all. I hated her, Barney and now I'm going to lose her and I'm scared." I say and he looks around and opens the door. I walk in there and stop at Lecter's cell. He turns around to look at me and sighs.

"Miss Starling, I'm really not in the mood to see you try to seduce me to get what you'd like. It's dis-"

"Are you in the mood to hear about my sister's death over the news and know that you could have helped but chose not to because you think I'm trash?" I asked. His expression doesn't change.

"Go on, Miss Starling." He says.

"You think I'm a slut? Well that's ok, Dr. Lecter, but I'm a slut that knows more about how relationships work then you'll ever." I said. He looked at me. "Don't give me that psychiatrist talk. I know you have a degree, but you know what? You have no first hand experience. My entire life was first hand experience and I never once knew what love was, the entire time. I knew that much, Dr. Lecter. I never knew love until I came back here and Clarice and I started talking." I say and toss my hair a little. "She's my sister. I love her, and you know what? You do to." I whisper. "You would never have sent her that note or saved her from those pig things, and yes, I did my research." I finished. "Help me save her." I whisper. He sits down and motions for me to do the same.

"Is what you're feeling love or guilt, Liana?" He asks. "Is-" I can tell he's starting with another question but I stop him.

"You're right, Dr. Lecter. It is guilt, but I know that if you help me save her, it can be love." I say. He stairs into my eyes. "Your psycho babble only works on people who have something to feel terrible for, but you know what? None of this is my fault, but I need to make it right and you're the only one who can help me do that. Take the power you have and help me."

"You have a silver tongue, Miss Starling. Do you know what that means?" He asked.

"I'm a hooker, not a idiot and I do take that as a complement." I say and sit down. "Do you like my shirt, Dr. Lecter?" I ask and grin.

"It comes up much farther then I thought. Are you trying to impress me?" He asks. "So desperate for attention that you'll take t from anyone?"

"No, I'm trying to get the one person in the world who loves me back and weather it be love or not, I know I can do it with your help. You helped Clarice catch that dude." I said. Dr. Lecter laughs a cold laugh.

"And you think I just helped her? No, she had to earn trust and respect. She had to play by the rules, Miss Starling. Are you willing to do the same?"

"My father died when I was young. I didn't care, or at least I pretended not to anyways, we were never close." I said. "When I was twenty one my sister had moved out and I was still at the orphanage, I had no where to go and one day I met Ivan. He told me he would take me away and we left together."

"When did he start to hit you?"

"A year after that."

"David came to me as a student. He was desperate for attention. His real first name is Anthony." I took out my notepad and wrote it down. This was going to go fast.

"Do you blame your fathers death on yourself?" He asks. I froze and shook my head.

"I blame the asshole holding the gun." I whispered.

"Who was that?"

"I don't know."

"Do you ever want too?" He asks and I nod.

"Every single day I saw my sister cry." I muttered and straightened my posture. Lecter smiled.

"You get called? Tonight do please tell Clarice what we're doing." He said. I turned around.

"That's it? I tell you a little and you kick me out? All I got was a name. Come on, Dr. Lecter. She needs you. I need you." I say.

"His last name is Rigartie. He's from an Italian family, thus springing the interest in Dante's Inferno. He started killing as a child, first anthills and then small animals."

"I started to strip tease when we got to New York. Ivan worked job after job and then I'd come home and he asked whom I really loved and I always said him. No matter what. He started to hit me when he lost his first job and things got bad when he started to drink."

"Even at the time did you think it was true?"

"No, no one loves me and I deserve it." I whisper. "Do you really know what happened to Clarice?"

"No, I only know about the killings. Your sister's disappearance was not something I knew about. I don't know what happened to her." He says and looks up. "You better leave, Liana. I assume I'll see you tomorrow and we can really start talking."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." I say and rise up.

"Good night, Miss Starling and I do hope you sleep well." Dr. Lecter says. I almost stick my tongue out but hold it in. Barney meets me at the door.

"How was it, Miss Starling?" He asks. I give him my killer smile.

"Actually, much better then I expected." I laugh and he smiles.

"Good, good, Miss Starling." I smile. He looks down.

"Thank you for all your help, Barney. I'm going to find her. I know I am." I say and he smiles.

"I know you will too. She's a smart women, Miss-"

"Please, call me Liana. I'm sure we'll know each other well enough by the time it's all over." He laughs.

"Miss Liana, I'm sire we will."

"Say, you free tonight?" I ask and he looks around.

"More questions about Lecter?" He asks.

"No, try drinks and dinner down at the little bar in town." I say and he looks around.

"Yes, Miss-um-Liana. I do actually think I am. Seven work for you?"

"Give me two hours to get read. Try nine." I say with a smile and he nods. My heart skips a beat. I was going to go really talk to someone. He wasn't going to try anything with me. I noted mentally and smiled. This meeting was going to have double purposes, triple actually. It was going to get Freedman jealous, get me more information on Lecter, and give me a night to myself.

Today was an oddly productive day and, you know what? I'm coming back tomorrow.


End file.
